//------------------------------// // 25-Butterfly Dreams // Story: A Changeling Queen Under the Griffon's Crown // by DungeonMiner //------------------------------// Chapter 25 It was dark, early morning light streaming through the shutters of his windows. Nothing stirred. The iPod on the nightstand lit up and a song began to play. “I hate feeling like this, I'm so tired of trying to fight this, I'm asleep and all I dream of, Is waking to you!” Alan quickly shut it off, and rolled out of bed. He didn’t look back at the now empty sheets. This was going to be his first day back to work, and he needed to focus. It had been a week since he had woken up. They had told him that he had been in a coma for a month now, having taken the fall down the trench pretty hard. They had kept him for three days at the hospital to make sure he was okay. After he was released, and being heralded as a miracle of modern medicine, he went home and sold a large amount of his stuff that he didn’t need anymore to pay the bill. His home phone went, his TV game systems went shortly afterward, he even gave up half of the appliances in his house. He simply didn’t need them anymore. He hesitated to sell his My Little Pony blindbags. In the end he decided to keep only one of them. He said goodbye to his mediocre collection, it...it just hurt too much to keep them.. It was just a dream, Alan. Yeah...yeah...just a dream… <<<|Ω|>>> Coffee grounds, 9.98. Hot Pockets, 12.88. Milk. Wow, really? That went up. He finished scanning the next few items before smiling and waving the next person through.”Have a nice day!” he said with his perfected retail-smile. The Whittlesey Boulevard Sam’s Club was as busy as usual, which was not terribly busy for a town like Columbus, a town said to be so boring, that the best thing you could do was move out. He quickly ran through another customer, and emptied his line. He checked his watch, and, satisfied that it was lunch time began to head down the line of registers, to the stairs that led up the employee breakroom. He stepped into the small room with a set of fold-up tables and chairs. “Hey, Al! What’s up man?” the only other occupant of the room asked. “Where’ve you been for the last month?” Alan stared at him. “Really, Chuck?” Chuck blinked. “Wait...so Jim was serious when he said you were in a coma?” He swore. “Sorry man, I...I can never tell when Jim’s joking or not.” Alan rolled his eyes. “Good to know you care, man.” “Hey, look man,” he said. “You still live in that run down apartment?” “Yeah,” he muttered, opening the fridge. “Alright, how about we go out for some drinks friday? Celebrate. Meet some girls.” Alan nodded. “Sure. Sounds good.” “Cool. Yeah, uh...sorry that happened, man.” Alan waved him off, and flung his vest into the chair in the far corner. Once freed of his uniform, he went back down the stairs, and walked back the way he came. Turning at the small concessions stand in the store, he ordered what he normally ordered from the girl behind the counter. He sat down and ate his hotdog, and stared out over the never-ending flow of customers. He should probably go back to school. Try that teacher thing again. He watched them all, the ebb and flow of the tide of people. It reminded him of the Ponyville river’s gentle bends. Alan sighed. It was just a dream. <<<|Ω|>>> The club was dark and smelled of sweat and alcohol. The thudding of the bass rippled through the building, shaking the floor and winding the dancers into a frenzy on the dancefloor. Colored lights spun crazily over the crowd, fueling the adrenaline- and possibly drug-powered crowd to greater levels of craziness. Alan watched it all from the safety from the bar, and sighed. He stared at the half-empty glass of cheap beer and contemplated whether or not it was worth getting drunk on. Running his finger around the ring of the glass, when he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning, he was surprised to see a woman standing next to him. “Hi!” she shouted, trying, and barely succeeding, to be heard over the music. She had a blond hair, thin-rimmed glasses, and green and hazel eyes. Alan raised an eyebrow before pointing to the door and standing up. Confused, she followed as Alan began to head out. Stepping out onto the street, Alan took a breath of fresh air, and was quickly followed by the woman that had approached him. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to yell, I’m Alan,” he said, holding his hand out. “Amber,” she said, taking his hand. “Amber Lashley.” “Nice to meet you Amber. Now, give it to me straight, how much is Chuck paying you for this?” She blinked. “Excuse me?” Alan smiled. “Chuck’s paying you, I know he is.” “And how do you know I didn’t come over on my own?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Easy,” Alan said. “That building,” he said, pointing at the bar behind her, “has maybe a hundred people in it. You came over to me, which means I was more interesting than a hundred people. That’s very unlikely. “Second, you’re wearing...capris, right?” She nodded. “Point is, they are a reasonable length. That, and from the fact that you can form coherent sentences, I can guess this isn’t really your scene, so you wouldn’t normally be here. “Third, and most importantly, I know Chuck. How much is he paying you?” She continued to frown before breaking a smile. “Ten bucks, the cheapskate.” “He got you to do this for only ten bucks?” “Well, ten bucks and an even debt.” “You borrowed money from him?” “I needed gas money, and I didn’t know he’d hold it over my head forever,” she explained. “Your loss,” he replied with a smirk. “Well, assuming I can at least get dinner out of you, we’ll be even,” she said, answering with her own smirk, and a mischievous glint in her eyes. Alan’s smile faded, and he sighed. “Alright...so...here’s the story. Chuck didn’t know this, but I was in a pretty serious relationship.” Amber’s face softened. “Oh? What happened?” “She…” Alan began. “She...died…” “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry!” she said. “I...I had no idea!” “I know, I know. Look…” he said, before looking down the street, “let’s...let’s just get you out of debt alright? Ever been to FreezeFrame?” <<<|Ω|>>> Alan came home that night to find a box at his door. The package was small, just barely wider than his laptop. The large, white sticker stared up at him with his name highlighted, and the Amazon logo smiled brightly. He knew what it was. It was the first thing he had ordered once the hospital had let him go. The long nights alone was sucking his soul from him. He...he didn’t want what was in that package. But he needed it so bad. He picked up the box and opened the door, carrying the precious package inside. He hung his keys up on the hook next to the door, and carried the small cardboard box to the kitchen. With practiced precision, he slipped a kitchen knife through the flaps of the box to get to the all-important tape, and sliced it in a smooth, quick motion. He replaced the knife, and opened the box, revealing the treasure inside. He stared at it long and hard. His lips were drawn into a tight line across his face and he stared down with a mix of relief and self loathing. It was a pillow. A small, purple pillow. The stock picture of Twilight Sparkle stared up at him from the box. He slowly carefully, reverently, picked up the pillow. Her face never changed. Her eyes never moved. Her chest didn’t rise and fall in that rhythm he loved. It was a pillow. But it was the closest thing he had. He looked at it for a long moment, before holding it to his chest. It didn’t feel like her. It didn’t smell like her. It didn’t sound like her. But it was all he had. Tears began to fall as he clutched the pillow. “I miss you, Twilight. I miss you so much!” A part of his mind mocked himself. What a pathetic little manchild. Look at the guy who can’t distinguish between his made-up girlfriend and reality. The other part of his mind didn’t care. He needed this. He needed to hold her. He carried the pillow to the bedroom and went to sleep crying. He cried like he had in Equestria, once he learned that he’d never see his mother again. And like he had in Equestria, he never let anyone know. <<<|Ω|>>> “Tell me that you will listen Your touch is what I'm missing And the more I hide I realize I'm slowly losing you Comatose I'll never wake up without an overdose Of you!” Alan shut off the alarm, and got up. He looked down at the pillow he clutched the entire night and gave it a slight smile. It had kept the nightmares at bay tonight. He yawned, and stood, before making his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, and got the milk. “Wake up, Alan.” Alan spun, searching for the source of the voice. Nothing. Alan sighed. The doctor had warned him about that. His brain was still trying to construct a world around him. He had really hoped he would be able to avoid the audio-visual hallucinations. <<<|Ω|>>> Alan sat on the bed, and loaded up a game, trying to get back to the game he had left. “Alan…” Alan looked up. No one in the room. Fallout 3 started up and Alan returned his attention to the screen. “Alan…” Alan looked up again. Silence. “Alan,” came the cry again, and this time he was able to locate its source. It was the blindbag. The one he kept. A small plastic Twilight Sparkle called his name once more. “Alan…” Alan stared at the little toy, and felt his heart splinter. The agony at hearing her voice… Why? “Alan…” it called again. He stood, setting the laptop to the side, and looked down at the small thing. “Alan, why won’t you wake up?” With a ferocity that surprised even him, Alan grabbed the little figureine and threw it out of his room. “Shut up!” he yelled. “Shut up! Shut up!” There was silence. Alan sat back down onto the bed, a hand clutching his heart, and tears flowing from his eyes. It hurt. All of it. It hurt just too much... <<<|Ω|>>> Five weeks since recovery, and Alan was back into the groove of life. He had visited his mother, and was now back at work, rigning up groceries while giving customers the biggest smile he could manage. He had just finished ringing up three large jars of chocolate covered raisins, when a very familiar face appeared in his line. “Well, hello there!” he said, catching her attention. The blonde blinked, before she refocused on him and smiled. “Alan! Hi! I didn’t expect to see you again.” “It happens. I wasn’t expecting to see you again either. Did Chuck pay up?” “Every penny.” “Good, good to hear.” “So...you know…” Amber said, twirling her hair. “I feel like I’ve been cheated a bit.” Alan raised an eyebrow. “Have you?” “Yeah, well. I went down there, expecting a nice dinner, and all I got was ice cream.” Alan raised an eyebrow. “A-As far as I’m concerned,” she said, crossing her arms. “You still owe me a date.” Alan smirked, the little hiccup in the start of her proclamation letting him know about her nervousness. He smiled and shook his head. “Tell you what give me one more week, and I’ll take you anywhere you want.” “Really?” she asked, spinning to face him, a large smile on her face. Alan chuckled. “Really.” <<<|Ω|>>> Alan threw his keys onto the couch, and plopped down next to them. He pulled out his laptop and loaded up steam. He had a rebellion to destroy. He also tried very, very hard to ignore the large white alicorn sitting next to him. “Why won’t you listen to me, Alan?” Faust asked him. “Why won’t you wake up?” Alan kept ignoring her, even as he was loading up FTL. It wasn’t healthy, you see. He shouldn’t encourage his brain into thinking those things were real. “Why won’t you talk to me, Alan?” Faust asked again. She...It was being very persistent though. “Why won’t you wake up?” It was beginning to grate on his nerves. “Why won’t you listen?” The game started up, and he quickly picked his ship. “Why won’t you wake up?” “I am awake!” Alan shouted, throwing the laptop to the side to yell into the vision’s face. “I am awake and you are nothing but a dream!” He roared shoving his finger into her face. “Stop bothering me! Let me get on with my life!” There was silence in the small room, and the two stared at each other for a very long time. Faust looked at Alan, hurt and resignation in her eyes. “I had hoped you would have been better than this, but sadly, I am not wrong,” she then stood, and to Alan, she seemed to tower over him. Her form was bright and massive, far too big for the room. When she spoke next, the room shook. “Know this, Alan Williams Goldenhoof, were it not for my plans, your life would end here. Your beloved would be at the mercy of your enemies, and your friends would march to their doom.” Then, just as suddenly as she had been there, she was gone. Alan sighed. He hoped that was the last he would see of her. It. He sat back down and returned to his game. <<<|Ω|>>> Markus Ironclaw sat up, gasping for breath. Expensive silk sheets and heavy, velvet curtains decorated the bed, and the royal bedchambers lay before him. A groggy, feminine voice groaned from beside him. “What’s the matter, your Majesty?” Majesty? his mind asked as it shook sleep from its corners. Of course...I...I am King, after all. He looked down at the lioness beside him. His wife. Cristina Rosehunter. “N-nothing, my sweet. I...it was just a nightmare…” She groaned again. “Do you need me to fetch the Royal Interpreters?” Markus shook his head. “No...no I will be fine. Thank you, dear.” She hummed and rolled over, eager to return to sleep. Markus Ironclaw, ruler of the Empire of Gryphus, quickly joined her. <<<|Ω|>>> Markus sat on the Obsidian Throne, and smiled as he ruled justly from his throne. This was what being king was all about. “The matter shall be ruled a such,” he said, staring down at the two griffons as he held court. “The defendant shall pay the prosecution two hundred and fifty-four Guineas. However, The prosecution will, in turn, provide either room and board or an apprenticeship. Such is the ruling of the crown!” He said, before his scepter came slamming into the tile beneath him, creating a loud boom that echoed in the throne room. The two bowed and made their exit, just in time for Cristina to throw herself onto his lap. “And how are you, my King?” He smiled as he looked down at her. “Cristina,” he scolded, “some decorum, please. It’s not befitting a king to have such a beautiful lioness simply lounge on him.” “My King,” she purred, “Your subjects love you. They would not utter a peep nor bat an eye if they saw us like this.” Markus smiled. “It’s a matter of professionalism, dear.” She rolled her eyes before rolling off of him, and landing at his feet before the throne. “Very well, I suppose I’ll simply save it for later.” Markus raised an eyebrow. “Save what for later?” The only answer he got was the slow swaying of her tail and the shaysay of her hips as she walked away. Markus smirked. The doors of the throne room opened, and a young griffon, launched himself forward. “Uncle! Uncle!” Markus smiled. “Julius! Julius, my dear nephew!” He said, stepping down from the throne to hug the young lion. “How are you, my boy?” “Father and I are doing well, Your Majesty,” he said, grasping his uncle’s arms. “We are indeed, Your Majesty,” Another voice said, as Calius Bloodfeather entered the room. “My brother and General, how many times must I say it? Family need not call me by all of these pointless titles.” Calius, the younger of the twins smiled as he hugged Markus. “Daddy!” a high-pitched voice called, belonging to the you lioness that ran into the room, leaping into Markus’ arms. The king laughed, nuzzling the small child. “Eva, Eva! Little Eva, how is my little one today?” Eva Roseclaw giggled as she hugged her father’s beak. “Daddy, Daddy! I saw a pretty flower today! You have to come and see!” Markus chuckled. “I will, Princess, but not right now. Daddy’s still busy.” “Oh, go along,” Calius said, waving Markus off. “We can take care of the court for a little while.” “Are you sure?” Markus asked. “Of course!” Julius echoed. “Besides, family first, right?” Markus smiled. “Right, family first. Come on, Eva, let’s go see your little flower.” “It wasn’t little! It was massive!” the hatchling cried, waving her talons animatedly as she went on to describe a rather colorful Hibiscus. “You killed him, Ironclaw.” The King’s head spun, startled by the sudden voice. But what he saw made his blood run cold. A skull, a very, very familiar skull stared at him. It’s sockets glaring coldly at him. The scratch along the beak. The patterns of the cartilage that ran between the parietale. It was all far too familiar. And he knew why. Because Ironclaw had stared and spoken to that skull for three years in a nightmare. “You coming, Daddy?” His eyes flew to his daughter before returning to the skull, only to find it gone. The table the skull had been sitting on was empty. “Y-yes, dear,” Markus said. “I’m coming.” He hesitantly backed away from the table, and followed the little hatchling down the hall. He glanced back. Yorick the Skull stared back. <<<|Ω|>>> “Very well, your Majesty,” Amadeus Penstroke said as he readjusted the glasses on his beak, “shall we begin?” Markus sat on a large, velvet-lined couch, and stared up at the ceiling. He sighed. “I’m...I’m being haunted by something, Amadeus.” “Haunted?” he asked. “There has been a skull following me. Telling me...reminding me about a nightmare I had.” “Really? Tell me about this nightmare.” “I’m...I’m terrible...in the nightmare. I was born second, and Calius was King...and...and...and I tried to kill him for it. I plotted to kill both him and Julius.” “Who would be the Crown Prince, in this case?” Penstroke asked. “Correct.” The scribe made a quick note. “Very well, continue.” “I...I was stopped by...by a pony, and was thrown in prison. I spent, they said, three years down there, and all I had to talk to was a skull.” “The same on that’s hunting you?” Markus nodded. “I had named it Yorick, and I spoke to it forever. It was the only thing I had to talk to...and...and I…” “Your Highness, if I may be frank?” Penstroke spoke interrupting the king. “I...go ahead.” “It seems to me that this nightmare was a little...well...to put it simply, traumatic. Now, I won’t pretend to understand how the mind works, but it sounds to me that the best thing you could do right now, is to simply forget it all.” Markus sat up and turned to look at the Royal Scribe. Yorick sat on his desk and stared at him. “The Pendragon had your life in his hooves.” Markus looked back up to the scribe. “Easier said than done, I’m afraid.” <<<|Ω|>>> Three days… Three days and three nights the skull haunted him. Everywhere he looked, Yorick was waiting for him. He had been doing his best to avoid him, but he was cornered now. “You betrayed your family and your king,” Yorick said. “It was a dream! A nightmare!” Markus argued. “I wasn’t in perfect control of myself.” “That is a lie and you know it!” The skull replied, floating a few inches off the ground. “You were in total control!” “I...well I—” “You were in full control of yourself and you tried to murder your brother and nephew for power!” Markus bit his tongue. “I...I…” “And that fact should tell you something. Something you know, deep down inside yourself.” Markus was silent for a long time. “T-this isn’t real...I...I wouldn’t have acted the way I did in the dream if I were...really king.” Yorick nodded. Markus sighed, and took the crown off his head. He stared into the gold, looking into his own reflection. “I...I’m a monster, aren’t I Yorick? I tried to kill my family for…for this!” he said, tossing the crown into the corner with disgust. “I’m a traitor and a kinslayer. I...I don’t deserve this world.” Yorick came closer, sitting next to the griffon king. “But...but how can I go back, Yorick? Back to those mistakes I’ve made and those griffons I failed. How can I go back and look my nephew in the eye?” The skull looked up at him. “Ironclaw, my dear friend Ironclaw...you can either sit here or you can go back, but pretending that your problems don’t exist won’t make them go away. You know that.” The king nodded. “I suppose I really only have one thing to do.” “Daddy?” a voice said behind him. Markus turned to see Eva, his dear, dear Eva staring at him. “Is something wrong, Daddy?” The old griffon smiled, and held out his claws. “Come here, Princess.” She approached slowly. Markus lay a claw on her back, stroking her brilliant golden fur. “Eva, my dear Eva. Do you know I love you?” Eva smiled as Ironclaw took her into his arms. “Yes, Daddy. I know you love me.” “Yes, yes I love you very, very much, Eva.” Markus smiled as he looked into her eyes. Her bright green eyes that were filled with awe and energy. “I love you, Eva,” he said, gripping her tightly. “I love you too, Daddy,” she said, hugging him back. “I-I—” he began choking on his own words. “I’m going to miss you the most.” “Wha-what do you mean, Daddy?” she asked, hurt evident in her voice. Markus hugged her closer before looking her in the eye. “I have to go, Eva, and I...don’t think I’ll be coming back.” “What...what?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. “W-where are you going?” “Somewhere very far away,” came the answer. “But-but why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just stay with mommy, me, and Uncle Calius?” “Because I have to do the right thing, Eva.” “I-I don’t understand, Daddy. Why do you have to go?” “I’m sorry, Eva. I’m so...so sorry.” <<<|Ω|>>> A talon burst through the pod. The green nutrient bath spilled out, pooling in the hallway as Markus clawed his way out. His once thin frame had been fleshed out again, the bath being able to sustain him and give him the calories he was desperately needing. Even so, he still struggled to get out. Finally pulling himself free, he fell to the floor, breathing heavily. The fact that it sounded like sobbing was purely coincidental. Pulling himself to his feet, he wiped the goo from his eyes and turned to the other pod in the hall. Pendragon Alan Goldenhoof lay there, asleep to the world. His pod sat there, stuck to the wall that Markus had just pulled himself from. A stray thought entered his mind. “You don’t need to take him down. You could just walk away and no one would know.” Markus snorted. “If I was going to forget my problems, I wouldn’t have left Eva.” And with that, he punched the pod. <<<|Ω|>>> Alan sat on his car hood, Amber next to him, staring into the night sky. The stars shone down on the young couple, and the cool air that smelled faintly of woodsmoke was still. There was silence. “Th-thanks, Alan. Dinner was great.” “Glad to hear it,” Alan said. More silence. “So Alan…” “Yeah?” “This girl, your...your last girlfriend?” “What about her?” “A-are you...are you okay with it?” Alan sighed. An long second passed. “I...I still love her, I really do. But...but she’s gone...she’s gone and I need to move on.” “Can…” she paused, inching closer to him. “This is going to sound really cheesy, but...but can I be the one to help you move on?” Alan gave her a smile. “Sure.” She closed her eyes and leaned forward. Alan approached her. And then he felt something grab his neck. <<<|Ω|>>> Markus pulled, bringing the Pendragon up for air as his lungs began to work again. More green goo flooded into the hallway, and was quickly followed by a pony, gasping for air. Markus set Alan down as his mind was sent whirling, and a stream of babble rushing from his mouth. “It’s here...she’s here...Sweet Celestia what was I doing? It’s still here.” “Take a moment to gather your thoughts, Pendragon,” Markus whispered, before sitting down, having been nearly exhausted from breaching two pods. “I...it’s all here...time...how much time?” “None that I could tell, it felt like a few days for me though.” “I...I…” Alan said, as he got up, hoof to his head. “She...she…” he sobbed. “She’s still…” “Are you alright Pendragon?” Markus asked. “T-Twilight...she’s still mine...she’s still here…” “She is, Pendragon, but I fear for not much longer.” “She...I…” his mind still trying to come to terms. And then he paused. And turned. Markus looked at him. Alan stared back. “You…” Silence. “You saved me?” Markus nodded. “Why?” “Because...because three years is a long time to think. And...and skulls tend to be great for getting your life back on track.” Alan blinked, confused. “I learned that my family should have come first, Pendragon,” he explained. “And...and if it hadn’t been for you, I would have sacrificed them on the Altar of power.” Alan blinked. “Thank you, Pendragon. Thank you for stopping me.” Alan sat there a moment. “I…” Silence. “I...Thank you, Ironclaw, for saving me. I’m sorry for wanting to execute you earlier.” Markus smiled. “I understand, Pendragon. But, please, call me Markus.” Alan smiled, and stood. “Alan will do fine.” “You ready?” Markus asked. “Not quite, my head is still spinning a bit, but I think it’s best I start moving. How about you?” “I’m not hungry thanks to that thing I was trapped in, but still tired. I will manage it, though.” Alan nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.” As they both made to leave, however, a voice suddenly crackled on Alan’s earpiece. “Alan...Alan it’s me, Twilight…” ------------------ Next time, no more Mister Nice Pony. “Sounds fun.” “Guess who’s back, baby!” “Kilo! Hi! I was so worried about you!” “Don’t be, I’m awesome.” And humble. Anyway, guys. Leave us the usual. Comment, like, fave, etc. “We’ll see you all soon!” Bye!